Keisha and Erica wave me over to sit with them in home group. But I still need to be by the door. It’s nice that they slide their books along the table and join me.
‘We didn’t find anything at Northfield,’ Erica signs.
I flinch at the mention of that place. But I remember to breathe. I keep it together.
‘But then we went into town and found two dresses.A red one and a blue one that matches Luke’s eyes,’ she stirs.She uses Luke’s deaf name, and I know it well by now. It’s the footy sign and mouthing ‘Luke’.
She’s in the middle of the sign when Keisha slaps her hands. I smile, but it also reminds me of Nadia, of how we used to be. She was a slapper. I can still almost feel the metal of her signet ring on my arm as she backhanded me for some comment I’d made. After I went deaf she stopped doing it, as though I was too fragile. It’s a weird thing to miss.
‘The dresses were only twenty dollars each,’ Keisha continues, post slap.
‘So we had ten dollars left over …’ ‘
For KFC.’
They finish each other’s sentences too. It sometimes used to annoy me when Nadia did that. It would seem like a gift now.
Helena arrives. Today she is wearing long lace-up boots, and her dance routine is thumpier than it was in the ballet flats. She hands out a permission form for an excursion to the careers expo, and then goes back to the whiteboard to write down extra details. When she’s finished, she unrolls a poster and tacks it to the wall.
I recognise the poster from my old school. It was stuck up in the year eleven and twelve common room, above the sandwich press. There are photos of students chatting to people at booths set up by different unis and organisations.I wonder how we’re going to get the information. I wonder whether we will take along an interpreter, or whether the expo will provide one for us. Or whether we’ll be expected to go it alone.
The biggest booth pictured is for the University of Melbourne. It’s where I want to go. I focus on it and I’m trying to be positive but the doubts keep seeping in.It’s as though that stupid Maggie woman from Harry’s party is inside my head. Oh really? How very brave.
It takes a lot of effort to get her out of my head. To keep my old dream alive. There might be someone there who will tell me that of course I can do it. Someone other than my family who can believe in me, who can help me to believe in myself.
I’m staring at the poster as though it will give me the answers. It takes me a moment to realise that Keisha and Erica are out of their seats, pushing past me to get to the door. Everyone else in the room is looking over at the door too.
I turn to see what’s going on. Keisha and Erica are hugging someone, and the someone is eclipsed by them. When they finally step aside, I see the hug-ee.
Her hair is white blonde with dark roots. It’s spiky at the top, and then snakes into a long plait. It must be a hair extension, because the plait doesn’t quite match the texture of the hair at the top. But it definitely looks like it’s been designed that way. Nothing about this girl looks accidental.
She is small and thin and about my age, but she’s not wearing a uniform. Her white T-shirt is tight, with the words ‘Rage against Audism’ in black across her chest.
I’ve never seen that word before. I don’t know what it means, but the first part of the word is probably from ‘audio’ and the second seems a bit like ‘racism’, so I’m guessing that it’s something to do with discrimination against deaf people.
She’s wearing a low-slung studded belt, and her black jeans are frayed and ripped, exposing tartan tights underneath.Her boots are tartan too, laces undone. When she turns around, I can see that she has a large camera strung over her shoulder.
Her brown eyes land on me, but they don’t seem to register anything. For a second, I wonder if I’m actually here.
Helena drums her boots again. Her writing on the whiteboard is next to the info about the careers expo.But the style is very different. The lettering is huge and red, like a celebration.
WELCOME BACK STELLA!!!
Stella looks at the writing. She smiles at Helena and claps her hands together as she walks to the front of the room.
‘Why no school uniform?’ Helena signs. The rest of us are the audience.
‘I’m jet-lagged,’ Stella signs back, her hand flying across her front like a plane. She doesn’t voice as she signs. ‘I just came in to get books so I can do my homework.’
‘Weren’t you … take books with you? Weren’t you … to be studying while you were away?’ Helena quizzes. I figure out the missing bit means something like ‘supposed to’ or ‘going to’. I’m getting faster at this.
‘I was studying,’ Stella signs, head tilted. ‘I was right in the middle of the school of life.’ The word ‘middle’ is emphasised, Stella’s right hand chopping heavily down on her left.
The performance is mesmerising. I glance around the room and see that the others are also staring with what looks like awe. Luke has his chin in his hands as he looks at Stella. I wonder whether she has been the cause of one of his past heartbreaks. Keisha’s eyes move between Luke and Stella, and I wish Luke would see Keisha properly, would notice how she looks at him. Everything could be so easy and un-heartbreaking.
The three kids in front of me lean forward, enjoying uninterrupted views of the Stella show.
Helena rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. She bites down on her smile and hands a form to Stella. ‘We have an excursion to the careers expo Wednesday week,’ she signs to Stella.‘I think you will be interested. So I hope we will have the pleasure of your company.’
Stella shrugs, like the expo is no biggie. I have a feeling she already knows where her future lies.
Helena shoos us out of the classroom the way she always does when it’s time to move to the next class. I’ve grown used to it. I actually kind of like the way she does it. It’s clear and predictable and familiar. Like she knows us all well enough to ‘shoo’.
I stay seated for a minute as everyone leaves. I feel new all over again. As in, awkwardly new. It’s weird, because before Stella arrived this morning, I’d been thinking how nice it was to have started feeling settled in.
I’m right near the door as usual, so everyone has to pass me. When Stella passes, I can’t help checking to see whether she has hearing aids or a cochlear. It’s become a habit when I’m around deaf people, searching for an indication of whether someone can hear anything at all.
It’s not like I’m staring. More like I’m sneaking a look.I am leaning against my hand, and only my eyes travel.
But it seems that she’s caught me anyway. Her eyes make a quick assessment. She blinks, and it feels like she has taken a mental snapshot of me to study later. But that’s ridiculous. It’s probably just me being paranoid.
As I stand up I see Keisha, Erica, Luke, Cameron and Stella all gathered just outside the door. Their signing is fast and furious and I only catch words here and there. They obviously have a lot to catch up on.
Erica beckons for me to join them. I point to my homework. We have English next. I finished my essay on A Thing of Beauty last night, but I need an excuse. For some reason I’m not quite ready to be with them.
I watch them walk off. They have made a formation around Stella, two devotees on each side. The shape means that everyone can address Stella, everyone can see what she’s saying.
Stella is very definitely at the centre.
I need to swim after school. I’m in a funny mood. Unsettled, and I know it’s about Stella even though that’s dumb. She made such a brief appearance today, and I don’t know why she had such an impact.
But I’m kind of nervy, like Stella’s arrival may have changed the dynamics of the group. I’m not sure where I’ll fit now that she’s back.
I go into the change room, and I hold my towel around me as I change. Then I put my swimming cap on and take a quick glance at myself in the mirror. My head looks like a bright yellow egg. The cap pinches a bit of skin on my forehead, but I don’t adjust it yet. I back out of the change room, dragging all my stuff from school.
I’ve forgotten that the lockers are so close, and I bang into them. I forget how much sound that would make. Is it more reverberation than loud sound? I hope so. They are old lockers, fastened to each other but not to the wall. There is definitely a bit of wobble. Enough wobble to destabilise someone crouching down in front of the lockers.
It’s a boy, wearing the purple and navy speedos of the swimming squad that often train here. He looks about my age. His shoulders are broad and impressive. He says something. I can only see the side of his mouth moving,but it’s pretty obvious he’s swearing. He’s sitting on the concrete floor because I’ve made him lose balance and fall.
I say a quick sorry, eager to be away from him, to be in the pool and anonymous.
He stands up. There’s a lot of him, standing up. He turns and looks at me. I feel extra conscious of my egg head. But I can’t help looking at him. His eyes are green, almost exactly the same colour as mine, though his hair is as blond as mine is dark.
‘It’s OK,’ he says. ‘You’re OK. I’ve just … one of … crap –’ He’s losing me. He is not looking directly at me anymore, and it’s too hard. I could stop him. I could ask him to look at me when he’s talking because I’m deaf. I could say that to every new person I meet. But I won’t, I don’t, so I walk away.
I don’t want to negotiate getting a locker with him there.I realise with horror that I’m standing right under the disabled sign of the change room behind me.
My own personalised backdrop. Check out the handicapped girl!
I need to get away. I dump my stuff on one of the chairs next to the pool and dive in.